


Damian Al Gh(o)ul - aka Tim Totally Called It

by Living_Free



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Justice League & Justice League Unlimited (Cartoons)
Genre: Crack, DaddyBats, Fluff, Humour, M/M, Other, Poor Damian, a bit OOC, batbrats, batbros, batfamily, but he has to go up against Bruce, he just wants to be loved, magical transformation, so does etrigan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-11
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2019-01-16 00:15:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12331680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Living_Free/pseuds/Living_Free
Summary: Something’s up with Damian...Are those horns growing out of his little head? Why do his teeth hurt? And where on earth is Grayson when you need him?And why is Etrigan in the Batcave?





	1. Owies

 

Come and cry with me about BatFam and the tiniest Robin in tumblr. I’m [kindaanglic](http://kindaangelic.tumblr.com).

 

* * *

 

 

Tim was alone in the house, and craving his coffee. With no Bruce or Alfred to bar him from the kitchen, and no Dick to look sadly upon his addiction (it wasn't, damn it!), Tim waltzed into the kitchen to brew himself a cup of divine bean juice. His waltz was brought to a screeching halt when he saw a tiny body hanging out of the freezer, with the head jammed inside. Resisting the urge to shove his little brother into the freezer fully, Tim approached the preteen.

“Abandoned our natural element, have we? Has the heat of hell become too boring for you?” Tim asked snarkily.

Damian launched himself out of the cooler ass-first, and pounced at Tim, who easily dodged. It was then he noticed that there was blood on Damian’s lips, and that his cheeks were swollen. “Oh my god, you've eaten Jason raw!” Tim cried. “Spit him out, you little hellion!”

Damian glared at Tim and looked pained, softening Tim’s horror. “Toothache?” He asked, to which Damian nodded. It was kind of adorable that Damian was still losing his baby teeth. “Open up, let me take a look,” Tim said clinically, applying gentle pressure on Damian’s chin. Damian complied, only to reveal bloody gums and...

“Fangs,” Tim said in shock. “Your canines are fangs. Fuckity tit-tacular blooming fangs. FANGS!” Tim cried in horror as Damian whined.

“Hurfts,” Damian moaned pitifully through blood and spit.

“Oh my god,” Tim hyperventilated, dancing around, “what am I gong to do!?”

“I pfwant Gwayson,” Damian whined through his new teeth.

“Yes because Dick can magically fix your spontaneously turning into a Twilight reject!” Tim cried hysterically. After wringing his hands for several seconds, Tim came up with a swift plan of action that was roughly something like the following -

Step One: Get Damian to the Batcave.

Step Two: Call Bruce and Dick.

Step Three: Call Alfred and ask for coffee.

Step Four: Call Jason to take photos.

Step Five: Put Damian in a salt circle and perform an exorcism.

With a plan set, Tim lugged Damian over his shoulder and ran to the cave, where shit would no doubt go down.

\-----------

 

“Oh, my.”

“Damian.”

“Oh, my poor Dami!”

“Ew.”

“Smile for the birdie!”

The rest of the family glared at Jason as the flash on his camera went off. Bruce snatched the camera away and stashed it somewhere within his utility belt before turning to Tim. “You found him like this?”

“Yep,” Tim confirmed. “Is he transforming into a puppy? Or a kitten? Bruce,” Tim gasped, yanking on his father’s arm, “am I going to get a puppy!?”

“Cool. You can call him Doodle.”

“Your brother is named Damian, and he is not your pet,” Bruce rumbled. “I'm going to run his blood, and Dick, you call Zatanna.” When there was no answer, Bruce turned around to see Dick icing Damian’s cheeks and giving him little kisses on his swollen face. “Dick!”

“What?” Dick asked distractedly. “I'm helping Dami!”

“You were babying him. Again. Go call Zatanna.”

“Dami wants me to love him,” Dick protested. “Love can cure anything! Dami needs love!”

“Then someone else can love him while you call Zatanna,” Bruce said simply. “Tim, take over for Dick.”

Tim looked horrified as he looked at a glaring, fanged, Damian. “But...but...he might be contagious! I have no spleen, I might get sick!” He cried, channeling his genius.

“True,” Bruce conceded, as both Tim and Damian sighed in relief. “Jason, you take over.”

Jason and Damian both gaped as Bruce swept away, and Jason turned to look at a troubled Damian. “Don't worry, brat,” he calmed his distressed sibling, “I've got an idea.”

That was how Bruce came back with the blood results to find Jason in full Red Hood gear, thunking his helmeted face against Damian’s in a poor imitation of Dick’s All Purpose Healing Kissies (TM). Bruce unceremoniously shoved Jason aside and announced that Damian’s blood test results were clean, and that they could only to wait for Zatanna now. Moments later, Zatanna appeared in a cloud of smoke and birds flying out from behind her. She bowed to the smattering of applause and swept towards Damian, who bared his teeth at her.

“Oh, dear,” Zatanna flinched, poking at Damian’s fangs. “You were right to call me, this is definitely supernatural in nature.” After a few minutes of casting spells and prodding, Zatanna straightened up, looking sheepish. “I've determined that whatever it is is certainly demonic in nature, but it's not hurting him,” she said. “Other than that, I've got nothing. Your best bet is to get a demonic opinion. I don't suppose you've got friends in the Underworld?”

“Of course,” Bruce scoffed, pulling out his phone. “Ah, Jason,” he said casually.

“Hey!”

“Not you, Jason Blood, also known as Etrigan the Demon,” Bruce clarified. “Jason, could you please come over?” He addressed his friend on the phone. “It's urgent.”

The minute Bruce cut the call, there was another plume of smoke, and a well-cut, refined looking man stepped out, brushing his long red-black hair away from his face. He quickly spotted Dick and went to him, scooped his hand up, and brought it to his lips. “Who knew that the Bat had such a beauty hidden away? Pray tell your good name, sir,” Blood purred.

Before Dick could answer, Bruce descended upon them. “His name is Batman’s Son,” he growled, yanking his friend away from Dick. “You'll do well to keep your hands off of him, of I’ll launch a Batarang so far up your-“

“Master Bruce!”

Bruce controlled himself and let go of Blood. “I need you to check on Damian. He seems to have fallen afoul of a dark spell.”

Blood brushed off his jacket, winked at Dick, and went to look at Damian. “Oh ho!” He grinned, prodding Damian’s swollen cheeks, “What are you doing on this side of the veil, little thing? Have you gotten lost? No matter, I'll just take you back to hell-“

The cave erupted in protests and everyone unsheathed their weapons. Blood looked surprised and backed away, but not before Damian used his newfound fangs to clamp down on Blood’s hand. “Ow! Why is everyone so angry? I just want to take the little ghoul home.”

“You're not taking Dami anywhere!” Dick cried hysterically, launching a wingding into Blood’s butt.

“A gift from the fairest of men,” Blood said, pulling the wingding out of his ass and looking at it appreciatively. “Smooth and lethal as its giver. I shall cherish it,” he said, tucking it away. “But why do you not want me to take the little ghoul back to its home? Do you not want your mother, accursed one?” Blood asked Damian.

“I phwant Gwayson.”

“Oh, Dami!” Dick cried, flinging himself over his youngest sibling.

Bruce cleared his throat and glared at Blood. “You're not taking Damian anywhere. He's my son.”

“Are you sure?” Blood asked curiously. “Because I see a little ghoul. Are you part ghoul, Bruce?”

“No,” Bruce growled menacingly. “But I bet I know who is.”


	2. Huggies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian gets some answers.
> 
> Bruce gets high blood pressure. 
> 
> Tim is irresistible.

“I don't know why I have to be the one to call,” Tim muttered sullenly as the phone rang.

“Because R’as and his stooges are more likely to pick up if its you. They're all like, totally in love with you,” Jason quipped. At Bruce’s growl, Jason backtracked. “Totally in lust, maybe? Yeah! Assassin Nerd Lust!”

“Jason,” Bruce started angrily, but was cut off by the automated voice machine piping up on the other line.

“You have reached the League of Assassins. To negotiate contracts, press one. To join our forces, press two. If you are Batman, press three, and wait patiently while we cut the call. If you are the Detective whom we collectively lust for, press four.”

“I knew it!” Jason trilled happily, as Bruce slapped him upside the head and Tim reluctantly pressed four.

“Thank you for contacting us, Detective,” the smooth voice came. “Please wait.”

After several rings, the phone was answered by none other than the Demon’s Head himself. “Detective,” R’as purred, “may I know why I have the pleasure of answering your call today?”

“Hello, R’as,” Tim grumbled. “I'm actually calling about an issue with Damian.”

“Oh? What has happened to my most vicious grandchild?” R’as asked.

“He’s, um, kinda growing fangs?” Tim said. “Also, we contacted some dude from hell and he said-“

“Why is my son part ghoul, you raggedy sack of bones and spit!?” Bruce yelled into the receiver, grabbing the phone away from Tim.

“Oh, is that all,” R’as huffed. “And here I was, actually concerned. Do you think we are called Al Ghul just for funsies? It is to pay homage to our demonic heritage. My most honorable mother, who was a full ghoul from the very depths of Hell chose to come to Earth and continue her bloodline with us. We have been hoping for the demonic traits to reappear in our family, and how fruitous it is that Damian has inherited her traits! He honors his great-grandmother and the family name!”

“Hewwo Gwandfawther,” Damian called from the examination table.

“Damian, you have made me proud!” R’as cheered. “Return to us in your demonic ghoul glory and bring your most esteemed brother back with you to be my protégé!”

“Go drown yourself in a septic tank,” Bruce seethed, cutting the call angrily. “Children, the next time you see that old fart, you have my permission to throw bat feces at him.”

Blood looked intrigued by the family dynamics around him and went back to focusing on Damian. “Yes, he's definitely part ghoul. I'd bet my bottom dollar that the fangs won't be the last of his manifestation though. You can expect horns at the very least.”

Damian let out an anguished wail at Blood’s words and ran to hide behind Alfred, who scooped him up. “Do not listen to that awful cad, Master Damian,” Alfred soothed. “Master Jason, dispatch this awful being posthaste.”

Jason drew his guns gleefully, only to have them knocked out of his hands by a batarang. “Blood, will the transformation hurt Damian? Will he be able to disguise his looks, like you?”

“Oh sure,” Blood replied casually. “He’s only half ghoul, so his demonic energy should be diluted. I can teach him to control his transformation if you'd like, but he'd have to manifest fully before I can do that.”

“How long will it take?” Dick asked softly, tenderly running his fingers through Damian’s hair.

“A few weeks, my sweet honeysuckle. Should you require assistance, I will always be at hand to answer the summons uttered from your wonderous lip-ECK!” Blood was cut off as Tim flew at him, and wrapped his hands around his neck, Homer Simpson style.

“Stop lusting after Dick, he’s the only brother that loves me! You’re not going to take my only likeable brother away from me!” Tim screamed maniacally.

While the sounds of Jason Blood spluttering faded into the background, Damian slunk over to Bruce, who petted his head. “Don't worry son,” Bruce assured him, “we won't let anything happen to you.”

Bruce tactfully did not mention the two fledgling bumps on Damian’s scalp. There would be time later.

\-----------

Damian was sulking.

As he was faced with the prospect of spontaneously transforming into a creature of the Netherworld, he felt that that a little sulking was completely justified. Robin had been grounded for the time being, and Damian found himself confined to his bed with nothing to keep him entertained.

“Dami!”

He spoke to soon.

Dick plonked down next to Damian on the bed and gently stroked his still puffy cheeks. “You're still teething?” Damian nodded sullenly and bared his new, glistening, fangs. Dick tutted and wiped some blood away before gathering Damian up into a hug. “Aw, Dami, the pain will pass. And you know that your family is going to be here for you, we love you.”

Damian fidgeted in Dick’s arms, cursing the emotions that were coursing through his veins. “Would you-“ Damian broke off as his voice trembled. Curses! “Would you still love me,” he tried again, slowly, “if I was a monster?”

“Dami, no!” Dick cried. “You'll never be a monster to me! I'll love you no matter what, you're my baby brother, the sweetest boy in the whole world!”

“Grayson, be objective.”

“I can't!” Dick trilled. “You're my special little man!”

“But I am no man,” Damian grumbled, picking at his sheets, refusing to meet Dick’s teary eyes.

“Oh, so that wasn't the worlds smallest penis we saw in the changing rooms?” Jason asked, walking in and flinging himself on the bed.

“WHAT!” Damian roared in rage, forgetting his own pity party.

“Damian, dude, it's a communal changing room. It's how I know that Replacement is actually hung like a freaking rhinoceros. Besides, we’ve changed you before when you were injured. Actually, Tim’s changed you.”

“You're lying, Todd!” Damian cried in horror, lunging forwards to strangle his cackling brother.

“Of course he is, Dami,” Dick scoffed. “Tim’s never changed you, but I have.”

“WHAT!”

Dick looked at his sibling in confusion. “What, you seriously didn't know? How do you think you got into your PJ’s that time you broke your ribs and passed out?”

“I thought Pennyworth helped!”

“No, that was me,” Dick said, grinning. “Of course I helped, you're my little baby, Dami!” Dick squealed, picking Damian up again. Damian settled in, grumbling, and shooting Jason poisonous glances from where he was squished up against Dick’s chest.

“You're not my baby,” Jason drawled, “but you're not a monster by any stretch of the imagination, kid. You're actually cute, in the right angle. The point is, even though you're not quite a man, and Dick probably will never have a meaningful relationship apart from you, you're never going to be consigned to hell.”

“The Devil couldn't keep you there the first time around, what makes you think you’ll end up there now?” Tim scoffed, sliding in to hand Damian an ice pack. “Even if you do go to hell, Dick will just wail at Satan until he kicks you both out.”

Dick nodded in agreement and bounced Damian on his lap. Damian felt the turmoil in his heart settle a bit, and felt just a bit disgruntled that he was still small enough for Dick to bounce him like an infant. “I can't hit a growth spurt, but I grow fangs,” he grumbled.

“No matter how tall you get, you'll always stay my baby,” Dick cooed as Jason and Tim gagged.

“What about when you have your own baby?” Damian asked, the feeling of insecurity rearing its ugly head once more.

“He can't,” Tim said flippantly, as Dick nodded. “Neither can Jason. I tested them both, and they're pretty much sterile. Comes with the job, I guess. All that exposure to radiation, toxins, and nad punches.”

Damian felt an ugly surge of satisfaction at the news, as Dick held him closer. “I see,” Damian mused. “So I truly am your only chance at child rearing.”

“Unless we adopt,” Jason said. “I want to adopt. How come only Dick gets a free kid? I want a free kid, too.”

“Oh my god,” Tim groaned, “you don't have kids to compete with your siblings. Besides, I'm sure that Dick would win.”

“Dami, what would you name your little niece or nephew?” Dick asked.

“Athena for a girl, and Ares for a boy,” Damian said cheerily, his own pain forgotten for the time being.

“I'm going to get twins,” Jason decided. Bruce, who had chosen that minute to pass by the room, felt the blood leave his face. “I'll call them Mauve and Maroon Hoodie. It'll be great!”

“None of you are having children yet,” Bruce croaked, his face ashen. “I...I can't be a grandpa,” he whispered lowly, staring off into the distance before beginning to walking away. “I can't.”

Dick rolled his eyes at Bruce’s dramatics and tried to snag Tim and Jason to snuggle, but only managed to hook Tim. “We’ll always be a big, happy, healthy, family here, Dami,” he said.

“I died, and am technically a zombie,” Jason butted in cheerily. “Tim is frail and wispy because he doesn't eat enough and has no spleen.”

“Yes, thank you, Jason. Multiple deaths and missing organs aside, we’re still going to always look out for each other. That's what family does,” Dick concluded sagely.

“Uh oh,” Jason said ominously. “I feel the zombie in me kicking in. Must...eat...BRAAAIIINS!”

When Bruce walked into the room, having recovered from his episode, he saw Jason clawing over Tim, and making nom-nom noises into Tim’s hair as the boy shrieked with laughter. Dick and Damian were giggling and scoffing respectively, and picking sides. Dick was Team Tim and Damian was Pro Zombie-Apocalypse.

Bruce grunted and smiled, seeing that normalcy had returned to Wayne Manor. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Family feeeeeels!
> 
> Weep with me!


	3. Touchy Feely

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian has a crisis and finds an unusual friend.
> 
> Bruce is a tad slow on the uptake, and perhaps a bit quick to judge.

Jason walked into the dining room the next morning to see Damian sitting down, wearing oversized sunglasses. Indoors.

What a little douche.

“Hey, take those off, you little douche.” That comment earned him a well-placed fork flying towards his eye, which he dodged only due to years of training. “What gives!? I'm only giving you sound fashion advice!”

“Engage with me at your own peril, Todd,” Damian grumbled, his head dropping down onto the table with a satisfying, dull, thunk. “I am fevered and in pain, but I can still best you in battle.”

“You wish, french fry,” Jason scoffed. “What's wrong with you now?”

“My head hurts,” Damian grumbled.

That explained the preteen hangover aesthetic Damian had going on. “Aw, shucks, brat. You want some drugs?”

“JASON!”

“Calm down, ButtMan, I'm talking strictly prescription meds,” Jason called back to his father. “So, how about it? You want some?”

“I want Grayson,” Damian whined, as Jason rolled his eyes. Mid-roll, Dick came dashing in with a cold compress, food, water, and most importantly, Love. While Damian was revelling in Dick’s pampering, Alfred came over with the aforementioned medicine and patted Damian’s head tenderly, only to jerk it away.

“Oh my,” he said primly. “Master Damian, I do fear that I can feel some rather large lumps on your scalp.”

Jason surged forward and grabbed Damian and threw him over his shoulder. “To the Batcave!” He shouted heroically, as he ran off with his angry little brother, and his elder brother following with food and Love.

\------------

“Horn buds,” Bruce grunted as he laid the x-ray out on the table.

“They're going to be magnificent,” Jason Blood chimed in. As soon as Jason had run in with Damian, Bruce had called his friend over again, to which the demon had responded eagerly.

Too eagerly.

“Massive, elegant, shapely, ram’s horns, as befitting of such a high level ghoul,” he went on eagerly.

Damian sat on the examination table, feeling numb. He would have horns. His days of being Robin and claiming the night were effectively over. While the rest of his family converged upon Blood to get specifics, Damian slipped off of the table and out of the cave, into the night.

He may as well see Gotham one last time before he was consigned to life as a beast.

\------------

Pamela Isley, known professionally as Poison Ivy, and affectionately as Pammy, was having a gala time down at the city square. The citizens of Gotham had long since made themselves scarce, leaving her twisting vines and creepers to run free over buildings and down the streets.

It was a liberating feeling, she mused, being alone with nature. Seeking more liberation, she snapped off her bra, and flung it aside, allowing her breasts to breathe. This was the life - no pollution, no screaming or gawking people, no men, no sexism or oppression - it was just her and her breasts, flying free.

Or so she thought.

A small sniffle in the distance caught her attention. Summoning a large bone to transport her, Pamela followed the noises until she discovered a small, clearly distraught, little Robin. Not being one to leave children in distress, (choke on that, Joker, you smileball), Pam poked the child with her vine. “What's wrong? Did the Bat yell at you? I knew that men were no good, not even the Bat.”

Robin glared up at her and wiped his tears. “The Batman has been nothing but noble and honest in his deeds!” He squeaked. “I am the problem,” he said mournfully, “I am a vile beast! I am ugly! A total uggo, as Red Hood says!” He cried before dissolving into tears.

Pamela looked horrified at the declarations. Deciding that this could not stand, she wrapped a vine around Robin sympathetically. “There, there, don't cry,” she soothed. “You're not a beast, you're a little boy! Say,” she said conspiratorially, “you know what cheers me up?” Robin looked up questioningly. “Beating up a man. Who do you want to beat up?”

Robin sniffled. “J-Joker?”

Pamela beamed. “Excellent choice, I hate that circus reject! Come on, I know for a fact that he's robbing the jewelry store on Marscapone Avenue right now,” she said, coiling a thick vine around the child and lifting him up.

There was a beating to deliver.

\---------

Batman flew towards the sounds of anguished screaming, and barreled through the jewelry store window, only to see Robin making quick work of the Joker while Poison Ivy encouraged him to break the clown’s nose.

One sickening crunch of bone later, blood was flowing from a sobbing Joker’s nose.

Having seen enough, Batman picked Robin up by his cape and put him aside while he dealt with the Joker. When he looked back, Poison Ivy had secured his son in her vines while she encouraged flowers to bloom in his hair. “Flowers can make anyone feel pretty,” she hummed as Robin pouted angrily.

“We are the protectors of the night,” Batman informed her. “Pretty isn't really our aesthetic.”

“I refuse to take fashion advice from someone who dresses like a dark furry,” Pamela spat at her nemesis. Her words had Red Robin and Red Hood snorting mirthfully, collapsing against each other as they dissolved into laughter.

“Dark...Furry...”

“Protector of...hee hee...Gotham!”

“Fear him, for he is the Night!” They both cried dramatically, before bursting out laughing again.

Batman glared at his children before smacking them both. “Go and deliver the Joker to Arkham, and then call Nightwing,” he ordered his unruly spawn.

“Aye aye, Captain Furry,” Red Hood said, knocking Joker out and dragging his unconscious body through the shattered glass. He and Red Robin disappeared, debating whether they should drop the clown in the sewer before delivering him to the authorities.

(They did).

Batman focused on his youngest, and frowned at him. “Do you know how worried everyone was, Robin? How could you sneak off like that? I thought you were smarter than this.”

Pamela was horrified as the little boy’s lips wibbled from holding back tears. Ever the protectress of defenseless seedlings, Pamela willed a creeper to slap the heartless Bat. One satisfying smack later, Batman was rubbing his cheek and looking affronted.

“Why.”

“This little boy has self image problems, and I'm willing to bet my bottom dollar that they're your fault!”

Bruce pursed his lips. That was something for Dick to address later. “Robin does not have any issues, you're delusional. But then again, you dress like a tree, so I'm not surprised.” Bruce looked satisfied by his savage burn, and started to cut Damian free when Nightwing hurtled into him.

“Robin!” Nightwing crowed, somehow encompassing both heroes and the villainess in his hug. “I was so worried! Why did you leave? I missed you!” Picking up on the emotion, Ivy’s vines curled around the group, seeking to comfort the newest addition.

“Ugh,” Pamela grunted at the zealous declarations of affection, and slunk out of the group hug. “Well, you're not emotionally deficient, that's for sure. I feel better about leaving the baby now that you're here.”

“I am no babe! I am on the cusp of adulthood!” Damian protested.

“Sure you are,” Ivy smirked, repositioning his flower crown. “Well, I'm off. And remember, little one, never feel low about yourself. You are always beautiful to someone who truly loves you.”

“Me!” Dick trilled.

Pamela rolled her eyes and left on a chariot of leaves, leaving Damian to face Bruce’s wrath with only a flower crown as his protection. “Father...”

“Explain,” Batman demanded brusqely.

Damian shuffled his feet before blurting out, “I wanted one last run of Gotham before I was transformed into an ungainly monster!”

It was just as well that Bruce’s face was covered. He had been told rather unkindly (by Jason) that he looked constipated when he was confused. “Explain more,” Bruce said.

Thankfully, Dick was much quicker on the uptake. “Oh, my poor Dami,” he sighed, gathering an irate Robin into his arms. “Lets go home. You've done enough tonight.”

“Poison Ivy is still on the loose-“

“WE’RE. GOING. HOME.” Dick snarled at Bruce angrily, dragging oblivious man and child back to the cave, where hopefully, someone with an emotional range greater than a guava could help him reassure Damian.

\------------

No such luck.

As soon as Dick, Damian, and a Bruce got out of the car, Jason cuffed Damian on the back of the head. “What the hell, you little cretin!” He yelled. “Don't you know not to go running off alone?”

Damian hissed and batted Jason’s hands away, clawing up to Dick’s chest so that he could swat Jason with better accuracy. “Do not patronize me, Todd!”

“Listen here, you venomous gerbil-”

“Jay! Don't call your baby brother names! He's traumatized!”

Jason immediately stopped, looking guilty and worried. “Aw, man, what happened?”

Damian sniffled. “I am not traumatized!”

“So you were beating up the Joker for funsies?” Tim asked curiously.

“Oh, I can get behind that,” Jason enthused. “I put forward the motion that beating up the Joker be a regular BatFamily extracurricular activity!”

“No,” Bruce grunted.

“Dick, Dick, we can totally make it a family bonding thing,” Jason insisted, turning to his brother.

“Ooooh...”

“Dick, don't be swayed by your delinquent siblings,” Bruce growled. Dick pouted and hefted Damian higher on his hip, breaking up a minor scuffle between Tim and the littlest Wayne. “Now, Damian, explain clearly why you felt the need to make everyone worry tonight.”

“Tt.”

“You made Dick cry, you evil chinchilla!” Tim scolded him.

Damian’s face immediately crumpled with guilt, the very thought of his favorite person in the world being sad enough to upset him in turn. “Grayson you emotional fool,” he berated his elder brother, who mushed his face into Damian’s hair. “I...” Damian hesitated before trying again, “I just wanted to see Gotham one more time. I know that it will not be long before I am transformed into a hideous beast. I wanted to feel the wind on my face one last time before I have to learn to hide my hideous visage, like Todd.”

“Hey!”

“Aw, man,” Tim sighed heavily, patting Damian’s shoulder, “that's deep.”

“Deep and completely untrue,” Bruce piped up. “Damian, you should know by now that Jason doesn't wear that hood because of his face. Your brother has a very handsome face, just like his father.”

Jason caught himself between a scoff and a thanks, looking torn at accepting the compliment and wanting to decry any comparison between himself and Bruce.

“It doesn't matter what you'll look like, little D,” Dick said, “you'll always be the most handsome man in my eyes.”

“Tt. You have to say that. Todd says that all mothers think that their child is the best.”

“It's true though!” Dick insisted. “Dami,” he said seriously, “I would never lie to my Robin. And you'll always be my little Robin, won't you?”

“You'll allow an inhuman creature to fight alongside you?” Damian asked carefully.

“Sure, I mean Bruce allowed Tim to join, didn't he?” Jason smirked. “And we all know that he's part elf. OW!” He cried, as Bruce pinched his ear.

“The disturbing implications of Dick being your mother aside,” Bruce started, “you should know by now that the only thing that I love more than justice is my children,” he said, addressing Damian. “Robin is a role, an ideal. You don't have to look any certain way to fulfill that duty. I don't care if you grow horns, fangs, scales, or wings - you'll always be my son, and my Robin.”

“Until you die and are replaced.”

“Jason!”

Damian looked down pensively, and bit his lip. “I...did not think this would be the case,” he said quietly. “I thought that I would be too hideous to take outside.”

“That's not true,” Tim scoffed. “We take Jason out all the time.” The scene then devolved to Tim and Jason tussling in the background while Dick bounced Damian on his hip to soothe him. To Damian’s irritation, it worked.

“Damian, I'm always going to be biased,” Dick said softly, “but I don't care about what you look like. I never will. All I want is for you to be happy and healthy, and from what I've seen, you're happiest when you're cruising Gotham, kicking butt as Robin. We won't take that away from you.”

“Never?”

“Never,” Bruce reaffirmed. “And what do you care for the opinions of other people? I thought you were above them,” he goaded his son strategically.

“Tt. Of course! I am Damian Al Ghul Wayne, Robin the Fifth, Son of the Bat, Heir to the Demon, and Scourge of Evil!” Damian cried shrilly, swinging his blade angrily.

“...and there's Mount Ego, reemerging through the fog,” Tim groaned. “Way to go, Bruce.”

Bruce snickered and sat back to watch Damian crow about the evildoers he had felled and would continue to raze as Dick kept bouncing him. It wasn't a complete fix, he mused, but it was good to see his boys happy for now.

\-----------

Poison Ivy was lounging on her throne of vines, a flower crown on her head, seated on top of the Gucci exhibit in the Fashion District. She was flippantly urging her creepers and weeds on to harass snobby shoppers, having the time of her life, when she noticed two figures come up to her. Looking down, she recognized a pouting Robin, his Hood drawn up, and an eager looking Nightwing.

“Now, Robin, what do we say?”

“Tt.”

“Robin!”

After grumbling for a second, the little boy addesssed Pamela. “Thank you, Weedy Villainess, for offering me comfort when I was distraught. I bring you a small token of my gratitude, in hopes that you will accept my most effusive thanks,” he said, handing her a small packet of seeds.

“You brought me...tomato seeds,” she said slowly.

“I like tomatoes,” Robin explained. “They are a misunderstood fruit.”

“...Thank you,” Pam said, making to stuff the seeds away, but found that she had no pockets. Curses! Another limitation of women’s clothing primarily designed by men! “I hope you felt better after beating up the Joker.”

“I did,” the boy said, grinning viciously. “Thank you for making me a garrote wire from fortified creepers. I aim to use it on Scarecrow tonight.”

“Please do,” she said, as Nightwing fidgeted uncomfortably.

“Okay, we have to go,” Nightwing said, a little shrilly. “Say goodbye now.”

“Goodbye, Isley. May you fare well in your efforts to eliminate the most odiuous and sexist of men.”

“Robin!”

Robin sighed. “Fine. Mildly harass, not eliminate.”

“Better,” Nightwing said, swinging away with the little boy.

Pamela watched man and boy swing away until they became specks in the distance, and then settled back to resume harassing a strange Andy Warhol knockoff who was no doubt a part of the pocketless dress regime.


	4. Huggies and Kissies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce is struggling with emoting, and Damian undergoes his final transformation.
> 
> With all of this going on, will Etrigan be lucky in love?

“Bruce.”

Bruce looked up from his notes, trying to locate the source of the noise.

“Bru~uce!” The voice came again, more insistent this time.

Bruce frowned. “Selina, if that's you, I don't have time to play hide-and-go-sex. I have an important merger to finalize.”

“Bruce, you perv,” the voice said, clearly disgusted. Tim stepped out from behind the ficus plant where he had hidden, and glared at his father. “You can't recognize your own son’s voice? Has lust clouded your brain that much?”

Bruce blushed, and tactfully changed the subject. “What's wrong, Tim?”

“Damian's what's wrong!” Tim whispered heatedly. “He's been watching me when I sleep! I feel this little prickle of unholiness in the middle of the night, and he's always there, just watching! Whenever I open my eyes fully, he's gone!” Bruce looked disturbed, but Tim was far from finished. “And, and! Yesterday night, I felt him touch! my! cheek! With his weird little gremlin hands!”

“Perhaps...he's grown fond of you,” Bruce posited hesitantly.

“He's pairing up with me on patrol more often. He’s been telling me random things, like to avoid multiple drones, and not to go off alone! Bruce, its like he's absorbing bits of Dick, but creepier!”

Bruce sighed and stamped his paperwork with a sense of finality, effectively merging a section of LexCorp Securities with Wayne Safety. One division was going to have a complete reorg, and it wasn't the one with his name on it. Chuckling darkly, Bruce followed Tim out to confront Damian on his new stalking habits.

“Damian, come down here please!” Bruce called, while Tim jittered next to him. Damian slunk into the room and glared.

“Yes, Father?”

“Could you explain why you've been watching Tim sleep lately, or why you've broken patrol to partner with him?

Damian looked down shiftily and muttered something at his shoes, but Bruce caught the words “having visions”, “stupid Todd”, and “imbecile Drake”.

“Go back to the part about your having visions,” Bruce said, feeling a migraine coming on.

“I've been having visions,” Damian admitted grudgingly. “At first, I thought they were just strange dreams, because I never dream of Todd or Drake, but then one of them came true.”

“Which one?” Tim asked.

“I saw one night that Todd was nursing a bruise on his forehead at the manor, and he was pretty out of it. The next morning, I observed him walking into the doorframe and knocking himself out. As a result, he had a bruise on his forehead identical to the one I saw in my dream. I also had one about Drake, and so I've been forcing him to take precautions.”

“What happens to me in your vision?” Tim asked softly.

“It doesn't matter anymore,” Damian said brusquely. “I've already prevented it from happening. You had to sacrifice yourself in that drone attack last Saturday, and were stolen away as a result. In the vision, you were alone, and so I've been accompanying you on your missions.”

“The drones...” Tim whispered, horrified. “You...”

Bruce looked overwhelmed and sat down heavily in his armchair. “Damian, come here,” he said quietly, holding his arm out.

Damian scurried forwards and clambered into Bruce’s lap and tapped his face lightly. “Father, are you feeling faint?” He asked sharply. “Drake, check his blood pressure!”

“He's alright,” Tim croaked, perching himself on the armrest and draping himself over Bruce. “Because of you. You saved me, Damian. Who...who would have taken me?”

“I don't know,” Damian admitted. “But I shall eliminate them if I find out.” Tim laughed, slightly breathy and manic, and hugged Damian. “Drake! Cease touching my person!”

“No,” Tim said firmly, “I won't. You saved me before anything could happen, and I'm grateful. You saved me and this family a lot of worry and grief, and at the end of the day, that's what matters. You acted to save us.”

“Tt. Father, are you crying?” Damian asked, prying Bruce’s fingers from his face.

Bruce wiped his wet cheeks and shook his head. “I don't know...what losing another child would do,” he choked, “to me, to this family. Jason, Stephanie, you, Cassandra, Dick-“

“Dick wasn't-“

“Grayson cannot die!”

“Dick is human, Damian,” Tim replied, soothingly.

“Nuh uh!”

“Oh my god.”

“His heart stopped,” Bruce said. “That's enough. I can't lose another child. I don't think my old heart would survive it.”

“You don't mind, then?” Damian asked. “That my powers can influence future outcomes?”

Tim laughed weakly. “Kid, at this point, we can use all the trump cards we can get. We go up against metahumans, crazy sadists, fucking Bane, and entire armies. Every little bit helps.”

“Besides, it seems that your visions are more or less random. They can be about mundane things such as Jason beaning himself, or serious things, like Tim being abducted. However, they all seem to center on protecting family.”

“They're centered on protecting what he craves and wants most,” Jason Blood interrupted, sauntering in. “I was coincidently in the neighborhood, so I popped by to say an innocent hello.”

“Grayson has gone to WayneMart to buy groceries,” Damian supplied.

Blood frowned and dumped his enormous bouquet of flowers on the table petulantly. “Demonic beings are inherently selfish, self serving. Their ultimate goal is to get what they want most. In Damian’s case, that would be the safety of his family.”

“Damian,” Bruce said fondly, “I'm so pleased.”

“I'm shocked,” Tim admitted. “You won't call us by our given names, but your subconscious wants to protect us.”

“Tt.”

Blood smiled as the family bonded, and slunk out unnoticed. There were several WayneMarts he had to visit.

\----------

It was a fairly inconspicuous morning at Wayne Manor when Damian’s transformation kicked into full gear.

Over breakfast, no less.

“Father,” Damian said suddenly, “I feel unwell.” That was all the warning they got before Damian proceeded to vomit partially digested pancake all over Jason and pass out.

He came to a while later, and registered throbbing pains in his skull and hands. He was also seemingly immersed in water, with a light drizzle overhead. Damian opened his eyes fully and to his horror, saw that he was in the bathtub wearing only his tighty whities. Further inspection determined that the cause of the drizzle overhead was Grayson's tears as he held Damian upright in the tub.

“Why are you all looking at me in the bath?” Damian cried angrily, startling the gathered family. “Cassandra! Fatgirl! Avert your eyes! This is most improper!”

Dick sobbed harder and hugged a sopping wet Damian. “Oh, Dami!”

“Stopper your emotions, Grayson! Why am I in the bath!?” Damian screamed, but immediately fell back with a groan, clutching his head.

“You had a raging fever,” Tim supplied, looking genuinely concerned. “An ice bath was the only way to get your temperature down immediately.”

“Yeah,” Jason added, sounding equally tender. “Dames, it looks like your transforming pretty quick now. I think that this is it.”

Damian tried to school his expression into one of stoicism and nonchalance, but ended up looking instead like the small, scared, child that he was. His maternal senses activated, Dick pulled Damian close and held him tightly.

“It's going to be okay, Dami. We’ll call Jason Blood and he’ll help you through the final stages of your transformation. Bruce is yelling for him right now.”

Damian chewed on his lip, and softly admitted, “I'm scared.”

Tim felt a bolt of inspiration hit him, and gently perched himself on the die of the bathtub. “Hey, there's no need to be frightened. Think of this as your ultimate evolution. You were Magikarp, but now you're going to blossom into Gyrados!”

“I was magikarp!?” Damian asked, sounding devastated.

“No, no!” Jason was quick to reassure the struggling boy, and smack Tim upside the head. “Seriously? You compared your brother to fucking Magikarp?”

“I was trying to help!” Tim whined.

“You're not Magikarp, Damian, you're Charmander! And now you're going to evolve into Charmeleon!” Jason said enthusiastically.

“Oh,” Damian sniffed. He looked up a second later and asked, “Wait, why not Charizard?”

“We gotta save something for puberty, kid.”

Damian fell into a pensive silence, his brothers and the throbbing pains in his head keeping him company. For a long time, Damian looked like he was battling within himself, giving himself a mental pep talk for the trials to come. Their moment was interrupted when Bruce slunk into the bathroom.

“Blood’s ready to begin. Damian, please dry off.”

Those words seemed to be the key to the floodgates, and all the emotion as warring inside of Damian came pouring out in a series of strangled wails and sobbing. “I don't want to be a ghoul!” He sobbed loudly. “I don't wanna!”

Jason glared at Bruce and slapped him before joining his siblings in helping a flailing Damian out of the tub. They had to be careful, though, as his nails were already turning into claws, and his horn buds looked ready to bloom. A lot of tender words and bouncing Damian around later, they finally managed to help him settle into Dick’s arms.

“I'm scared,” Damian repeated, whimpering.

“It's okay to be scared, Damian,” Tim soothed. “We all get scared, even Bruce.”

“It's true,” Bruce said, jumping at the chance to be useful. “I used to be scared being hurt all the time.”

“What changed?” Damian asked, intrigued.

“Nothing. My fears just transferred to my children’s wellbeing, especially after Jason died. I'm still scared stiff sometimes. The nightmares that plague my sleep and even my waking hours are the bane of my life.”

“Not helping, Bruce,” Jason hissed, as Damian’s eyes widened in horror.

“But I don't let them stop me,” Bruce hastened to continue. “I know that no matter what, my kids are strong enough to overcome anything the world can throw at them - even death.”

Damian buried his button nose in Dick’s shoulder and calmed himself down enough to look up at his favorite sibling. “I don't want to be alone,” he said softly. “Will you stay with me through the process?”

“Of course,” Dick whispered. “Always. I love you, Dami.”

Damian blushed and mumbled something into Dick’s shoulder, that could very well have been Dick’s words and feelings being reciprocated.

“What was that?” Stephanie asked gleefully. “What did you say?”

“I said,” Damian said, raising his voice slightly, “I hope you grow as round as the moon, Fatgirl.”

Jason barked a relived laugh. “That's the brat that I know and sometimes like. Come on, let's get this over with.”

“Yes,” Bruce said, “lets go,” and reached out to take Damian, who only clung tighter to Dick. Bruce frowned. “Why don't you ever let me carry you? Even after my emotional speech! Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to connect with my feelings?”

“Your arm hairs are prickly and itchy, Father,” Damian admitted. “Grayson’s arms are smooth.”

“I wax,” Dick said happily.

“You complete girl,” Jason snorted, as they all traipsed down to the cave.

The banter continued as they went downstairs, and only stopped when they saw Jason Blood standing over a large cauldron whose contents were happily bubbling away. “Ah, you're here! Chuck the lad in!”

“AAGH!”

“It's for the transformation,” Blood added with a chuckle. Damian climbed gingerly into the bubbling mixture and immediately felt a peace descend over his aching joints and head. “I will need to transform into my demonic persona for the ritual,” Blood said ominously. “Prepare yourselves.”

A dark energy filled the room and closed in around Blood, materializing in he form of thick, black, smoke. When it dissipated, it revealed Etrigan, the Highest of the Damned. “Fear not, friends, for I pose no threat to the pure of heart!”

After a beat of silence, Jason snorted irreverently, breaking the tension.

Tim sidled up the affronted demon. “I'm taller than him!” He trilled happily.

“Dude, no offense, but you're a total uggo,” Jason observed.

“Don't be mean, Jay,” Dick chastised him. “He's so cute! Oh my god, you're so small and perpetually angry, it's so sweet!”

Etrigan perked up. “Wait, that's all it takes? All those flowers, poems, and serenading, and all I needed to do was transform into a demon in order to win your heart!?”

“Dick has a thing for small uggos,” Jason chimed in. “Case One: the gremlin in the cauldron.”

“Todd, I will end you!”

Etrigan looked back at Damian, who was trying to climb out of the cauldron to make good on his threat, and pushed the child back in. “Back to the ritual. I will woo you later, my sweet nectarine,” he said, bowing to an amused Dick with a flourish, “but for now, we have to release the child’s inner demon!”

Etrigan began chanting loudly in Latin, summoning demonic energies to infuse the liquid in the cauldron. “Now, we shall need the blood of the progenitor, willingly given!” Etrigan yelled, signaling to Bruce. Bruce sighed and pricked his finger to dribble a few drops of blood into the mixture. As soon as the blood made contact, the heretofore clear liquid turned into a deep navy blue.

“Bring unto me, the blood of a foe, forcibly removed!”

“Ow!” Tim cried in pain, as Bruce grimaced apologetically and pricked him with a needle to draw blood. “What the hell! I'm not his foe!”

“Sibling rivalry counts,” Etrigan rumbled, tipping Tim’s blood into the mixture, turning it a velvety plum colour.

“And finally, bring unto me, the blood of the beloved, lovingly given!”

Everyone rolled their eyes when an enthusiastic Dick allowed Etrigan to collect his blood, which turned the mixture a bright gold upon contact. Damian smiled happily and splashed around while Jason and Tim scoffed irreverently. “Guh, how cliché.”

“And now, the final phase!” Etrigan boomed excitedly, and dunked Damian’s head into the mixture. Damian spluttered for a minute and then emerged slowly from the cauldron. The family waited with bated breath as Etrigan towelled his creation off and revealed him with a flourish.

“Behold! The little ghoul!”

“Tt.”

Damian stepped out from behind Etrigan, looking much the same as he had before the transformation, with the exceptions being the tiny horns that swirled around the sides of his head like a ram’s, and claws in place of his fingernails.

“Well?” Damian asked hesitantly, “how do I look?”

Unable to contain himself any longer, Dick let out a high pitched squeak which sent the bats into a flurry. “You're so cute, Dami!”

“Someone objective, please,” Damian said, rolling his eyes.

“No, seriously, you're really cute,” Tim tacked on.

“Silence, Drake!” Damian cried, blushing.

Jason whipped out his phone and snapped a picture, and then showed Damian. “See? Totally not an uggo.”

Damian studied the picture intently before grinning. “I look fantastic! I am intimidating now! I will strike fear into the hearts of-“

“Oh my god, he has a tiny tail!” Tim yelled, pointing at Damian’s buttocks.

Everyone gathered around to ogle at the tiny, red, pointed tail that had sprouted from Damian’s tailbone while the boy himself spun around in circles, attempting to catch a glimpse of his new appendage.

“It’s so cute!” Dick squealed.

“It’s wiggling! Aww!” Tim added.

“Silence!” Damian shrieked, after catching a glimpse of the tail. “My new prehensile tail is to be feared as an extension of my lethality! Don’t you dare coo at it!”

“It’s...quite the addition,” Bruce said unsurely. “Will it get any bigger?” He asked Etrigan, who was lounging by the cauldron.

“I don’t think so,” the demon answered. “On a full blooded ghoul it would, but Damian is half human. I think the tail won’t grow any further.”

“At least it still fits the Robin colour scheme,” Jason mused. “We’ll just have to make the pants looser around the butt area. Which is a good idea anyway, seeing as he’s going to enter puberty soon.”

“You dare to assume that I can not control my bodily functions, Todd?!” Damian seethed.

“Kid, no one can control a boner. It’s the one force of nature that is beyond the control of any man.”

“We shall see,” Damian sniffed haughtily.

Boy, was he in for a surprise.

—————

After the hubbub had died down, and Damian had dragged the rest of the family off to help modify his Robin suit, Etrigan plucked up his courage and cleared his throat.

“So, you approve of your brother’s transformation, I take it?” He asked Dick, who smiled kindly.

“Of course. I could never be upset at him for anything, much less for something as trivial as his looks.”

Etrigan’s damned heart sang and he stood a little straighter in the presence of the fair knight. “A truly enlightened viewpoint. Does this apply to anyone who you interact with?”

Dick smiled knowingly. “Well, I suppose,” he drawled. “But Jason was right, you know. I’m biased.”

“Oh?” Etrigan could feel his heart sink, burdened by the weight of his own ugliness.

“Yes. I’m rather partial to small demons with large hearts, you see,” Dick said coyly.

It was all Etrigan could do to refrain from punching the air in delight. “A pity, that. There are so few beings who could match your preferences,” he said slyly.

Dick let out a full bodied laugh that had Etrigan’s cursed stomach flipping over with excitement. “Oh, well. You only need to find the right one, you know. And I do think,” he paused, looking up through his lashes, “that I’ve been quite lucky in that regard.”

Etrigan beamed, baring his three rows of fangs at Dick, who smiled back shyly. Their moment was interrupted by Damian’s shrieks of rage when Jason and Tim fell over laughing at the sight of his new little tail poking through the top of his pants.

“Grayson!” Damian cried. “Come and help me silence these two curs!”

Etrigan straightened up and held out his arm. “Shall we?”

Dick linked his arm with the lord of the damned, and smiled.

“Lead on, good sir, lead on.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ....that’s all folks!
> 
> Please comment, and come by my tumblr page @kindaangelic (http://kindaangelic.tumblr.com)

**Author's Note:**

> DUN DUN DUN!
> 
> One guess as to who Bruce is thinking of!


End file.
